The Devil Can Love Too
by Crymson Ash
Summary: Sometimes even the Devil needs to love.


**Round 3 of QLFC**

 _We've all played this game at some point in our lives (if you haven't, you should). The rules are simple: one person asks the other to pick a Truth or a Dare. Depending on which one the other picks, the first person will ask them a question that needs to be answered with the Truth, or they will Dare them to do something that they probably wouldn't normally do._

 _This round works on the same basic principle. Each position will be given a Truth and a Dare to choose from, based on which a story has to be written._

 **Position:** _Keeper_

 **Prompt:** **Write about a Truth being hidden from somebody** ORwrite about a Dare that reveals somebody's true feelings.

 **Summary:** _Sometimes even the Devil needs to love._

 **Word Count: 1368**

 _*ooOOoo*_

Gellert sat in his prison cell, a bitter smirk pulling at his lips. It was ironic, really, that he was imprisoned in the place where he had kept his enemies. Shaking his head, he tried to think of other things, lest he drive himself insane. Of course, not even his mind seemed to have mercy on him, for none other than Albus was conjured by his drifting thoughts.

He hated the man.

It hurt, so, so much. He couldn't even breathe without hurting, much less live when thinking of Albus. Gellert hated him. Above all, Gellert hated that he couldn't live without him.

When they met, Albus had been shy. Well, maybe shy wasn't the most appropriate term. Albus had been _innocent_. There had been so much potential, and Gellert had been enthralled. The attraction had been mutual from the start, and Gellert had taken full advantage of it, helping Albus to explore magics unknown to most, debating philosophies and ideals. Dreams of revolution and magic had filled their days. Gellert closed his eyes, shaking his head. Their plans had been so grand. To this day, Gellert was sure they would have succeeded if only Albus had remained by his side.

Gellert sighed, leaning back against the cold stone wall. Everything was different after the mess with Ariana. Albus had been so riddled with guilt that he had left him. Oh sure, Gellert had been the one who had actually _left_ , but Albus hadn't tried to stop him, had he? Guilt had destroyed Albus, leaving nothing but a weak willed man in its wake. Was it any wonder that Gellert hated him so?

Gellert chuckled, the sound, dry and rough, echoing in his small cell. He had done his best to put everything behind him, and he had succeeded. He had taken their plans and put them to fruition. It had been glorious. If only Albus had been able to see it. Why couldn't Albus understand? Why had Albus forced his hand in such a way? Why had Albus confronted him? Didn't he know? Didn't he see? Gellert closed his eyes, a shaking hand rising to cover his face—a feeble shield against his memories, his feelings.

How he hated the man that would make him live out the rest of his days at Nurmengard.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by footsteps coming his way. He had been in Nurmengard for going on two months by his calculations, and no one had been by to see him yet. He let his hand fall to his lap, unwilling to show any hint of vulnerability to whoever might be coming. It took everything in him not to react when a painfully familiar face appeared in the dimly lit hallway of the prison.

Albus was staring back at him; at the very least, someone who looked like Albus. Albus, the true Albus, was buried under all that guilt that was shining in those clear blue eyes. There was pain there, too. Pain that Albus was trying to hide; however, Gellert knew him far too well to be fooled by such a weak mask.

Gellert stood, slowly approaching the bars in his cell.

"Gellert."

Gellert tried to tell himself that the quiver in Albus' voice was nothing more than his imagination.

"Albus." Gellert dipped his head slightly. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."

Gellert was certain that the flinch from Albus was his mind playing tricks on him. Albus had made his position clear: he wanted nothing to do with Gellert.

"I… I need to ask you something."

Gellert raised an eyebrow, a sneer pulling at his lips.

"After putting me here… you think I owe you anything at all?" Gellert surged forward, grasping the bars of his cell. "You left me here to rot! I owe you nothing!"

Gellert flinched when Albus placed his own hands over his. Gellert had to stop himself from looking away when he saw the bright shine of tears in Albus' eyes.

"Please, Gellert, help me."

Gellert couldn't look away from the bright blue eyes. He had always been so very weak against them. The pain coming up his throat was suffocating. How he hated the man, and he hated himself even more when the question bubbled up his throat, "Help you with what?"

"This guilt." Albus closed his eyes as if shamed by the show of weakness. "It tears through my heart, it eats at my soul. You are being punished for your crimes, and I am being punished for mine," Albus said, opening his eyes as a tear escaped his control and rolled down his cheek.

Gellert tried to press himself closer to Albus, glaring at the bars keeping them apart.

"You have done nothing wrong."

"What if I have? Every night, I see Ariana falling, like a puppet cut from its strings. I see that accursed green coming from my wand. I know no longer what is dream and what is reality. Please, Gellert, tell me who killed her. I cannot bear this anymore."

Gellert opened his mouth, then he closed it again. What could he say? He knew the truth would destroy Albus, it would drive him insane until there was nothing left of him. Gellert couldn't bear to see it happen. He wouldn't break Albus, no matter how much he might hate him now.

"Gellert?"

How could he refuse that pleading tone?

Gellert closed his eyes for just a moment, then he raised his head, certain that all but his hatred had been hidden away. Then again, Albus knew him just as well, how could he ever think that he could hide anything from him? It hurt to even look at Albus. Why? Why couldn't hatred be the only thing that remained between them?

"I will tell you." He looked away when Albus sagged against the bars. "First, though, answer one question for me."

Albus' head snapped up. "Of course."

Gellert looked straight into Albus' eyes. "Do you still love me?" If he hated himself a little more for asking, no one would know except for himself.

He felt Albus tense, the grip on his hands tightening. He heard the shuddering breath that Albus took. He saw eyelids fall over bright blue eyes. Gellert was sure he knew what the answer would be; even so, he needed to hear it, even if it broke his heart even more.

"Yes."

Gellert's eyes widened, his breath catching.

What?

"I think of you every day." Albus opened his eyes once more, and Gellert could see the truth in them. "I can't live without you, Gellert. If you were gone, and I was still alive…" Albus shook his head. "I don't think that I could even live. I know I shouldn't. I _know_. But even after all the people you killed, all the lives you destroyed, I still love you."

Gellert was sure that Albus would be able to hear the beating of his heart; it sounded unbearably loud in the silence that followed.

"I killed her," Gellert said, looking away. He had never been able to look Albus in the eye and lie. "I lost control. I'm sorry Albus."

Gellert almost flinched when Albus' hands fell away from his own.

"Thank you."

His head snapped up at the whispered words.

"What for?" Gellert let go of the bars, taking a step back. "Admitting that I killed your sister?"

Albus shook his head. "For helping me, in spite of everything that happened."

"I hate you," Gellert whispered, looking away from the knowing smile. "So much."

He flinched when Albus reached inside his cell, taking hold of his hand. Still, he couldn't stop himself from walking closer to the bars, leaning in.

"Please, just… one last time," he whispered, hating the waver in his voice. He was stronger than this.

Albus smiled, it was bittersweet, but his words were sincere all the same. "Of course, Gellert."

They leaned in and kissed in the dark and damp prison, the gray stones as their only witnesses. One man, the worst Dark Lord in over a century; the other, the one that defeated him, considered a hero. They would forever be bound by so much more than hatred.


End file.
